


Warm Ears

by HouseGameOfPotter



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dreams, F/M, Fluff, Force Bond, Innocent Kylo, Soft Kylo, Sweet/Hot, Virgin Kylo Ren, Virgin Rey, fantasies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 22:07:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16146527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HouseGameOfPotter/pseuds/HouseGameOfPotter
Summary: 'Innocent virgin Kylo has the softest most pure fantasies about Rey, but he’s convinced she would never want to be defiled by a monster like him. Imagine his shock when she starts whispering in his ear all the dirty things she wants to do with him'Tumblr Prompt by ReyloPrompts.





	Warm Ears

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all, back with an adorable fan-fiction that's a little different for me. 
> 
> One shot. Reylo. Pure adorableness. 
> 
> I saw this on tumblr from the fanfic account, ReyloPrompts and was like yoooo I have to write this. 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Shannon Xx

He feels the heat when it reaches his ears quicker than you could say Force Bond. 

 

_She would never, you're not good enough for her._

 

_You're a monster._

 

It never helped, the self-loathing and hatred of who he had become wasn't enough to deter the dark corners of his mind from thinking about these things, about _her_. 

 

It was always the same, silly fantasy. One in which Rey was fixing something, an X-wing or maybe a droid. She'd reach up to a high shelf, one which made the hem of her top rise and show him her midriff. 

 

It was trivial, total nonsense. 

 

And yet it made the Supreme Leader of the first order blush like he used to when his father first explained girls to him.

 

Just the thought of her stretching, bending in the beautiful ways her body does, standing on her tip-toes and curling her arms to reach into a box for whatever spanner or wrench was stored there, was enough to send his mind into a meltdown. 

 

He imagines her realising he's watching, their eyes connecting as she turns her petite frame to look at him, the look of want in his eyes. 

 

He does want her, but he can't have her. 

 

Not now. 

 

Not ever. 

 

_You're a monster, who would ever love a monster?_

 

His minds taunts him, teases his pathetic fantasies in his dreams, when his guard is down. She's always perfect, always warm and light and loving energy. She always wants him too. It's a cruel game his subconscious plays on him when he's defenceless. 

 

She'd never want him. Leaving him, refusing to be by his side was enough evidence of this. The way she closed the door of the Falcon, her gaze steely, it's etched into his mind, curses him to live a life of shadow, where he's not whole without her light, her love.

 

When they'd touched hands, he never thought he'd feel such an intense feeling again, the action between the two of them causing such an ache within his body. 

 

If it had not been for his Uncle's bad timing, she may have seen the blush that crept up his skin from his fingers that night. 

 

Like now, how his ears were pink in his reflection. 

 

He's torn, more so now than ever before, the memory of what he did to his father, splitting him to the bone once more. 

 

As he stares at his reflection, his eyes gazing over the darkness under his eyes, the fear in his iris and the cracked skin of his lips, it's another lightsaber to the heart, another twist of a knife. He'd never be as handsome as someone like Poe Dameron, or even FN-2187. 

 

Yet he clung to that image, her waist revealing itself to him, tanned and supple as her muscle clench as she reaches up. 

 

How he wished to touch the flesh there, to feel the smoothness of her skin as it dances under his fingers, to make her shudder with just his hands. The truth is he was all new to these feelings, and he didn't know how to handle them, process them. 

_She'd never._  

 

He can't get the self loathing out of his mind, warped by the conflicting dark and light factions in the recesses of his brain which refuse to be at peace with one another. His eyes darken, his mind feeling shame. 

 

He knew how foolish he was being, even dreaming of such an angel, of flesh bathed in light and kindness, of something so pure and beautiful ever being a part of him. But the truth was no matter how much self hate he drowned himself in, his hope for her became stronger, unbreakable even as he tried to swim to her. 

 

How dare his subconscious use him as a play thing, make him feel weakness and weariness all in one nights sleep. He should strike her down, end this long he has for her, one jab of his saber into her heart.

 

The thought terrifies him, makes him feel foolish. And so he once again thinks of her skin, marred with grease and oil with whatever she was fixing and so the cycle of torment would continue. 

 

He's becoming unstable, he feels it within him. Training is harder to navigate with a cloudy head, with visions of Rey beneath him in his bed, his knights of Ren defeating him easily and he knows why. He says he's letting them, making them complacent, but they know the truth too. 

 

And that truth is Rey is all he think-

 

He feels naked as the air moves around him and a heavy weight is placed on his shoulders. 

 

The bond would connect now, at the time he's feeling most vulnerable, as he's looking at his exhausted form in the mirror and wondering if everything he's ever done is worth it. He doesn't have long to put guards in place, to stop his mind flowing into hers. 

 

But he's unsure if it's too late or not. 

 

But she's sunlight as soon as he sees her. She's on her knees fixing something, a droid perhaps as she seems to be chatting animatedly. 

 

His mind replays his fantasy, feeling foolish yet lustful at the same time. 

 

She knows he's there, he can sense her trepidation. 

 

She's walking then, perhaps finding somewhere more quiet to talk. 

 

What does he say to the girl who has made him question everything, who is the subject of his pathetic, virgin fantasies, who he cannot even look at for fear of falling even deeper into her spell. What do you say to a girl who could not learn to love a monster?

 

_She could never._

 

He loathes himself, what he's become. The echo of Kylo Ren that he now is, more Ben than he's ever been but reluctant to be called that. 

 

"Ben?"

 

There is is, three letters. Uttered by a voice so entrancing he doesn't respond straight away.

 

He looks up though, and meets her Hazel eyes with his dark brown ones. 

 

He realises the truth in that moment. 

 

Dreams are a pale imitation of reality, and she is more, so much more than what his fantasy makes her out to be. 

 

Her hair is soft, gently blowing in the breeze of whatever planet she's on and billowing like a waterfall down her back. It's down, he's never seen it down before. It stirs something within him at the sight of is cascading around her shoulders. 

 

Her eyes are like honey, colourful and sweet, pouring into his own as their line of eye connects. He's looked into them so many times, he's seen every emotion in them, but this, it's contentment and he wonders what has caused her to look at him in such a way. 

 

Her skin looks delectable, the sun shining on it, illuminating her tan and filling his darkness with a warming light. It takes every strength to not touch her skin, to not feel the smoothness under the pressure points of his coarse finger tips. 

 

He wonders what she'd thinking as they look at each other, if she's disgusted in his appearance. 

 

After all, _who could ever love such a monster?_

 

"I already do" 

 

The words cause him to falter, his knees giving way before him almost but just about standing before him. 

 

_I already do... I already do... I already do..._

 

She must be mistaken, she couldn't feel that way, it was impossible. 

 

The things he's done...

 

The damage he's caused...

 

The lives he's taken...

 

How could someone as beautiful as her, as compassionate and caring and loving as Rey ever love a disgusting monster like him. He did not deserve her love, he did not deserve anything from the small Jedi. 

 

He feels shame, all his deeds and dealings crackling under his skin, brewing in a storm in his mind. 

 

Darkness washes over him, it was a trick. 

 

It had to be. 

 

The darkside wanted to expose his weakness, exploit it. 

 

He feels himself shaking, his body battling with the rational part of his mind telling him to accept it, to believe in her words. He needs to say something, he needs her to understand, to know what her words mean, that she doesn't know what she has said...

 

But all he can say is "Why?"

 

He hears her sigh, deeply and impatiently. 

 

"You know why" 

 

He does, but he doesn't understand it. 

 

He's just a monster, a villainous wretch with a irredeemable heart and a pathetic want for a girl he can't have. He won't bring her down to him, he won't let her be tarnished because of him. She deserves better, she could have better. He says it too, not looking at her. 

 

"I don't deserve you"

 

"You deserve the world, Ben" She says full of love and hope, it bleeds into him, the way her mouth says his name affecting him. She's there, pulling him down to meet her height. He looks into her eyes and sees adoration, it causes a sharp pain within him. 

 

_How can she look at me like this, when I killed Han Solo? When I murdered innocent villagers, when I killed my master?_

 

His mind is tormenting him, playing him like a violin. 

 

He sees his fantasy again, the hopeless want of man cast in shadow. 

 

A twisted longing for a shelf and a wrench, innocent to some, twisted and warped to him. 

 

Her voice sounds, making beautiful tunes as his ears turn pink once more.

 

He's on his knees, unsure of what to do. 

 

Kylo Ren, Supreme Leader of the First Order, on his knees for a girl who can't and shouldn't ever love him. How Snoke would laugh, torture him until the girl was out of his mind. He's too far gone now, he'd still imagine her no matter what torture he could concoct. 

 

But he was ashes now, it did not matter. 

 

"A wrench?" She says, her soothing tone twisted in confusion. 

 

Warm ears, he feels it again. 

 

She caught something, an inkling. 

 

"Uhh, nothing"

 

He can't look in her eyes, but it does not matter. The image fills his mind and he can't control it, it's breaking all his walls, overwhelming him. The reaching, the way her legs look longer and more toned than ever before, the curvature of her hips when she sits back down again, the perfect shape of her bottom...

 

She hears a low giggle, a sound so pure he feels something within twitch. 

 

He allows himself a glance, just the one, to see her reaction. 

 

She's smiling, like she'd finished fixing a complicated issue on an X-wing or she'd transcribed something from the Jedi text he'd seen her read so many times. 

 

"Kylo Ren" She says, faint but a whisper.

 

He's not breathing, he's sure he's in a dream world, he has to be. He has no idea what she's going to say, if she's going to trick him, tell him she did not mean it, tell him he's worthless, a monster.

 

But she says none of these things.

 

"Your ears are red"

 

She giggles. 

 

He's in awe of her. 

 

She puts her hands on his shoulder, pulling him to her, breathing in his scent as he is her. 

 

He smells lemons, like fresh ones he used to find on Chandrila, hand picked by him and Lando when he came to visit them. She's sweet and edible all at the same time, he feels heat crashing all over his skin. He's unsure of what to do. 

 

He holds his breath as he feels Rey's on his ear and neck, like a gentle breeze in a Naboo summer. 

 

She leans in real close, her lips almost touching his ears. 

 

"Imagine how red you'd be if you knew all the things I wanted to do to you"

 

He feels a twitch in his trousers, a clench in his chest and an ache in his heart. 

 

What things?

 

What things does she want to do to him?

 

He couldn't get redder, could he?

 

He can't speak, his voice failing him as he's eager for this moment never to end. He's certain it's real, but there is still a small voice in the back of his mind telling him it's a trick, to run and resist her temptations. 

 

He can't, he's too intoxicated.

 

He drinks her in, one more time, that citrus mix hitting his senses like opiate or mead, but hundreds of times better. 

 

She speaks again, just as seductive and intense. 

 

"Would you like me to show you?"

 

_Kriff yes._

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave Comments and Kudos, it makes my day!
> 
> P.S, please check out my other current running Reylo stories, Strong vitals and the Student Affair series.


End file.
